


nothing without you

by irondevils



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: A little crack, Angst, BAMF Peter Parker, Blood and Gore, Broken Bones, Crying, Explicit Language, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, NOT STARKER - Freeform, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Rape/Non-con Elements, Some Humor, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, cuz ew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irondevils/pseuds/irondevils
Summary: Tony smiled, but an unnerving feeling of dread had settled in his chest. He wanted to be as excited as Peter was, because, believe it or not, he enjoyed spending time with the kid. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about all of this. Why were small time robbers using alien weapons when they were robbing empty factories?
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	nothing without you

**Author's Note:**

> soooo it's been a while. I don't really have an excuse for why its been over a year since I've posted. I just haven't written anything lol. But I do have some stuff planned that I will hopefully write and upload at some point. For those of you wondering: Will the Already Gone sequel ever happen? I have no idea. I hope so? But we'll see lol. On that note, I hope you enjoy this angsty mess that I didn't proofread. 
> 
> Warnings: Strong Language, Suicidal Thoughts (brief), Rape/Non-Con Elements (nothing happens and nothing is graphic, just a creepy dude making creepy comments), Graphic (sort of?) Description of Injury and Violence. Definitely not starker. Ew.

Tony had been having a pretty good day. He finally had a breakthrough in his nanotech after being awake for 72 straight hours, had actually gotten some paperwork done for once and then crashed into a surprisingly nightmare free sleep. He slept in, woke up to a text from Pepper reminding him that she would be back from London tomorrow, and was on his third cup of coffee in the last 30 minutes. So yeah, in Tony Stark standards, the day had been going pretty well. 

“Boss, you have an incoming call from Peter Parker. Would you like me to put it through?” Tony frowned, looking down at his watch. It was two in the afternoon on a Saturday, why the hell was the kid calling him? He tried to ignore the rising panic in his chest, telling him that something was wrong. The kid was probably calling to tell him about another old lady giving him a churro. 

“Yeah put him through,” Tony muttered, straightening and swallowing that rest of the coffee. When did the kid become such a big priority of his? 

“Hey Mr. Stark!” Peter’s upbeat voice echoed from the ceiling. Tony couldn’t help but smile. Fuck when had he become such a sap? Tony decided to ignore it for now. The kid was happy and he seemed okay and (hopefully) uninjured. 

“Hey kid,” Tony replied, getting out of his seat and heading towards the lab. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you stuck in a dumpster again?” 

Peter laughed a little, a bit embarrassed, and cleared his throat. “I actually need to ask you something, if you’re not busy, because I-I c-can call back later if you have something to do and-” 

“Kid,” Tony cut him off, amused. “I don’t have anything going on, and I’m never too busy for you Pete.” Peter was silent on the other side of the line, but Tony could almost hear him smile. Tony winced. He needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut. 

He swallowed hard. “So what’s up kid?” 

“There have been a bunch of fuel robberies over the last few weeks, and I think I figured out where they’re headed next. But they’re armed with alien tech, and I know this sounds stupid but you told me to call you I ran into it, so I was wondering if you would go with me? To get the guys?” To say Tony was shocked was an understatement. Usually, Peter does the stupid thing first and asks for help after things inevitably go wrong. But Peter asking for his help before things go to shit? Tony felt a little swell of pride for how far they’d come since the Vulture incident. 

“Sure kid, why not?” What was the harm in busting a couple of robbers? He could do some good and make sure the kid was safe. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark! I’ll text you the details and meet you there?” Peter sounded excited, and Tony smiled. This kid. 

“Sure Pete. I’ll see you then.” 

“Call disconnected.” Tony sighed, checking his phone for the text from Peter. 

_ Ferris Fuelers @ 10 pm. thanks again mr stark! :).  _

Tony smiled, but an unnerving feeling of dread had settled in his chest. He wanted to be as excited as Peter was, because, believe it or not, he enjoyed spending time with the kid. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about all of this. Why were small-time robbers using alien weapons when they were robbing empty factories? Tony laughed at himself a little. Everything was probably fine.

“FRIDAY,” Tony said. “Cut me off after two cups next time okay?” 

* * *

At exactly ten pm, Tony touched down behind Ferris Fuelers. It was surprisingly quiet out for New York, but he could still hear the faint sounds of traffic in the distance. He looked around for the kid because while loud and easy to spot in his civilian clothes, he was stealthy and hard to find if he didn’t want to be found when he was out as Spider-Man. After scanning for a few seconds, Tony saw a dark figure move a few feet away. Peter waved at him from where he was perched on a dumpster next to the back door. 

“Hey Mr Stark!,” Peter greeted. Tony nodded in his direction.

“Karen scanned the building for heat signatures. There are two guys in there, and she confirmed alien tech inside. The guys are towards the front of the building, so I figured this back entrance would be best.” 

Tony thought about it for a second and agreed. “Yeah, let’s get going, I can’t imagine this will take them too long,” Peter grunted in affirmation and flipped off of the dumpster, starting towards the door. 

Tony scoffed. “Showoff.” Peter barked out a laugh, opening the door and gesturing for Tony to follow him. The factory was dark, and Tony could’ve sworn he saw a rat in a corner. It smelled like a gas station, and not in a good way. Like gasoline mixed with piss and (possibly rat?) shit. Yeah, that was more accurate for New York. God knows what dripped from the ceiling, and all Tony wanted at that moment was to get this over with so he could get out of here and go home. Maybe invite the kid over for pizza, and work in the lab or watch a movie. It was a Saturday and Pepper was out of town, meaning Tony was by himself in a giant penthouse. But it's not like he was lonely or anything. Okay fine, he was a little lonely, but that didn’t matter. The kid seemed to really enjoy it the last time he did, and Tony couldn’t even be bothered to deny that he did too. 

They walked down the maze of hallways in relative silence, exchanging a few words every few moments, but the conversation died off the closer they got to the robbers, the only sound the suit’s heavy metal footsteps. Tony turned toward Peter, about to ask him something when Peter stopped in his tracks, pushing Tony slightly backward with a strong hand on his chest. Tony swatted his hand away, sputtering. 

“Kid wh-” Peter shushed him. 

“Did you just shush me?” Tony asked, incredulous. He wasn’t even upset, though his tone betrayed him. Peter had never shushed him, hell he probably hadn’t shushed anyone in his entire life, his manners were so good. Tony had noticed how tense the kid had gotten. So while he’d never admit it, he wasn’t upset. He was worried.

“I can hear them,” Peter whispered, sounding slightly apologetic. Tony felt a little bad for using that tone with him. But he couldn’t think about that right now. He’d apologize (Tony Stark, apologizing. Can you believe it? Rhodey would have a field day with this) after they were done. He took a moment to acknowledge how fucking freaky the kid’s super senses were. They had never failed to impress him. 

“They’re in the room to the left of this hall.” Tony frowned, he couldn’t hear them, but he trusted Peter’s word. 

“I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to sneak up on them kid.” Tony couldn’t see the look on the kid’s face, but he knew that the kid probably knew that already. The eyes on Peter’s mask squinted in concentration. Tony stared at him inquisitively, too genuinely curious to see what the kid had to say to even bother thinking of an idea himself when his eyes widened in realization. 

“What?” He asked quietly. “Tell me what’s on your mind kid.” Sometimes Tony wished he could read Peter’s mind. Or at least know what was going on in there a lot of the time. The kid was brilliant, and Tony could use his input. That’s one of the reasons he invited him over to his lab sometimes. The only reason, he told himself. But then again, it was probably a mess of teenage angst and Tony had suffered through enough of that during his own teenage years that he didn’t care to experience it again. Tony could hear the smile in Peter’s voice as he pointed to the wall opposite them. Tony glanced over and balked at the sight of two trash cans. 

“I think I have an idea.” Tony choked on a laugh. It wasn’t a bad idea, but Peter had a knack for thinking of the weirdest, but often most effective, solution to a situation. 

“You can’t be serious.” Peter just looked at him. “Oh my fucking god you are serious aren’t you?” Tony watched through disbelieving eyes as Peter walked to the trash cans and rolled one to Tony. He opened the lid and gracefully (how the fuck was it graceful?) climbed in, lifting his head over the ledge. He looked like a fucking toddler. Completely and absolutely fucking ridiculous.

“Yeah I’m not doing that,” Tony said shortly. “So get out of that goddamn trash can and we’ll figure out another way.” Peter laughed, clearly having way too much fun. 

“Mr. Stark, get in the can.” Tony scowled, glancing at the trash can and back to Peter, who even under the mask, looked at him expectantly. He could imagine his brown, puppy dog eyes. _Please Mr. Stark?_

“Fine,” Tony grumbled, climbing into the trash can clumsily. “This better be worth it.” 

* * *

If you told Tony ten years ago he was going to be staking out robbers with a teenager in a smelly ass trash can, he would’ve laughed in your face. But here he was, uncomfortably squeezed into a dark prison that smelled like rotten eggs and shit. Yeah, not Tony’s best moment. There were definitely rats in this place. Peter and him were slowly shuffling their way towards the sound of the robbers’ voices, trying their best not to draw attention to themselves. Tony didn’t really understand the physics of how they were even moving the trash cans, or how the fuck the robbers wouldn’t notice them, but he didn’t have the energy to care.

“How much fuel do you think we’re gonna have to steal?” One voice, male, asked. 

"A lot.” Another voice, female, answered.

“Kk,” The man replied, seemingly satisfied. Tony snorted. Why was he even here? From the sound of it, the kid could probably handle this on his own. They’d be out of here in no time. Tony and Peter continued moving slowly forward, but a sudden pause in the conversation between the robbers stopped them in their tracks. 

“Did those trash cans just move?” The woman asked. Tony cringed, preparing to pop open the lid and blast these motherfuckers right to prison. Peter apparently had the same idea, jumping out right before Tony. 

“Entrance!” He yelled as he stood up, pointing his webshooter toward the robbers in warning. Tony held back a laugh, torn between facepalming and smiling at the kid’s weird tendencies. The man yelped and dropped his fuel container, startled. The woman just stared at them, not even having the decency to look somewhat threatened. Tony decided that he didn’t like her. They were intimidating! Well, maybe not Peter. Tony didn’t know how people that didn’t know the man behind the mask saw him, but Peter Parker was the farthest thing from intimidating. But Tony definitely was. 

“Okay,” Tony started, satisfied with the lack of imminent peril for Peter and him. “Let’s get this over with. Drop the weapons and step away from the fuel so we can get the fuck out of these trash cans.” Tony fully expected the two robbers to drop everything immediately and beg for their lives, considering the circumstances, but the man only sneered, pointing his (admittedly scary looking) alien weapon at Peter.

“I know everything about you Stark,” He said, nodding at his partner. She pointed her weapon at Peter too. Tony was glad his faceplate was down, he didn’t have to hide the fear on his face. “You won’t shoot me, not while Spider-Man here is in danger.” Tony swallowed, flipping his faceplate up and trying to keep his face neutral. He glanced at Peter, looking for a reaction. Peter had tensed and was gripping his webshooter a bit harder now, but he seemed okay. Tony knew that Peter was used to situations like this, but his chest still hurt at the fact. Peter had to grow up way faster than any kid his age should have to. Tony turned back toward the man. 

“Look, man, why don’t we all put down our weapons and we can talk about this okay?” The man was not convinced, and the woman just looked confused, like she expected a gunfight to break out right then and there. Tony lowered his gauntlet.

“See? I don’t want to hurt you, and neither does Spidey over here.” Peter nodded quickly, relaxing his grip on his webshooter. “We don’t want to, but we will. So put down the guns.” The pair of robbers glanced at each other, conversing silently. Finally, the man nodded. Both guns clattered to the floor and quicker than Tony had ever seen anyone do anything, Peter webbed them to the floor. The robbers looked stunned, but satisfied, and less murderous. Tony could handle less murderous. He looked at Peter, confused by his silence. The kid had never shut up once as long as Tony’s known him. So the lack of nervous rambling or witty quips was a bit concerning. The kid jumped out of his trash can and extended a hand to help Tony stumble out of his. It took longer than Tony was willing to admit. He made a mental note to hack into the factory’s security and delete the footage. Peter stepped forward, meaning to take care of the robbers, but he paused when the man spoke. 

“I’m glad we finally got your attention, Spider-Man. We did all of this for you, you know.” Tony’s chest tightened. He knew something wasn’t right about all this. 

“What do you mean?” Peter asked lowly. 

“Do you take me for a small-time criminal, boy? I only wanted to see you, to get revenge on you, for what you did to me and my family.” Tony took a step forward, reaching a hand out to Peter. He knew how these kinds of monologues usually ended. 

“Kid I-” Tony started, but Peter put a hand on his chest, silencing him. Tony didn’t even call him out for it. He looked the man up and down, trying to gauge his intentions and guess his next move. The man paid him no attention, but instead glared at Peter, and took another step toward him. 

“You ruined our lives,” he said, gesturing between him and the woman standing a few feet away from them watching the exchange with morbid curiosity. 

“Let’s not be dramatic,” Tony said, trying to diffuse the situation. He didn’t like how the man was looking at the kid. He looked deranged, and those kind of people wouldn't listen to reason. They needed to get this over with and get out of here. 

“Shut up!” The woman yelled, speedily stepping in front of the man, only a foot of space standing between her and Peter. Tony stepped forward again, but a warning glance from the man had him frozen in place, watching Peter and silently praying that nothing bad happened. 

“You ruined our lives,” she continued, the anger in her eyes burning even brighter than the man’s. Tears welled at the corners, and Tony almost felt bad. He probably would’ve, if she wasn’t threatening his kid. When did he start thinking of Peter as his kid? Not the time Tony. Focus. 

“And now we’re gonna ruin yours.” Tony tensed, ready for the room to explode or something, but for a moment nothing happened. Of course. The robbers were all talk. Criminals were like that sometimes. Cough Cough Justin Hammer. Tony scoffed, about to shoot the robbers with his repulsor and get the hell out of there. That was apparently the wrong move, because the woman yelled in frustration, pulling her arm back and slamming it into Peter’s chest. Electricity crackled through her arm and the force of it sent Peter flying backward, somersaulting in midair and landing hard face down on the floor. Shit. The woman was enhanced. 

"Kid!” Tony yelled, the sound erupting from his throat before he could force it down. Tony had seen Peter take some hard hits, but when he didn’t pop up ready to fight, he looked down at the kid, looking for movement, something, anything, that would tell him Peter was okay. Nothing. The kid didn’t move or twitch, he just laid there, unmoving on the floor and looking too much like dead for Tony’s liking. He rushed over to Peter’s side, ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him not to take his eyes off the robbers, to shoot them with his repulsors before they could do anything else. The alarm sounding in his head drowned out all other logical thought. _Help Peter Help Peter Help Peter Help Peter Help Peter._

“Kid?” Tony borderline begged, shaking the kid slightly and tapping his hand on his cheek. 

“Hey hey hey kid? Talk to me kid! Kid?!” Tony frantically pushed his fingers against the pulse point on Peter’s wrist. _Please be okay please be okay you have to be okay._ He let out a shaky breath of relief when Peter’s pulse beat, mostly steadily, against his fingers. Peter was okay, He was okay and once Tony took care of the robbers, he could fly him to the medbay. The doctors could take care of him, and Tony would ask him to stay. To eat pizza and watch a movie because y _ou just got hurt on my watch kid, it’s the least I could do._ Once the panic had mostly subsided, Tony allowed himself to look up at robbers. They had ripped their guns out of the webs on the floor, and were pointing them at him with smug grins on their faces. 

Tony gently put Peter’s arm back on the floor and lightly pat his back before standing up, staring at the robbers murderously. Nobody lays a hand on his kid and gets away with it. Before he could even get a word in, one of the guns fired and hit him square in the chest. The suit took the brunt of the damage, but Tony dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes right next to Peter, his vision getting darker and his limbs feeling heavier. He could feel himself quickly slipping into unconsciousness. The suit was dead and there was no way he was getting out of here any time soon. With everything he had left, Tony blindly reached out for Peter, gripping onto what he assumed was his bicep and squeezing it, trying to comfort him even though he knew Peter couldn’t feel it. 

“You take the kid, I’ll take the old man.” The man’s voice said. Tony didn’t even have the energy to be offended by the old comment, too focused on Peter’s arm being pulled from his grip. 

“Kid,” he muttered, reaching out for him again. Before his brain could catch up with what was happening, a hard, heavy object collided with the back of his head, and everything went dark. 

* * *

“Mr. Stark!” A hushed voice was the first thing Tony heard as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. His head throbbed, feeling like he had been stepped on by twenty nine overweight elephants. Tony groaned, trying to stretch his arms, only to realize he couldn’t. He knew the feeling too well. Restraints. Everything that had happened in the last few hours came flooding back to him, and his eyes snapped open. Peter. Where was Peter? The last time he’d seen him he'd been unconscious. Shit what if the robbers had done something to him? Hurt him? Killed him? He looked around frantically for a moment before his eyes landed on said teenager chained to a wall across from him. Without his mask. Tony was only slightly relieved. Peter seemed relatively unharmed, but they had still gotten themselves into a pretty damn bad situation. 

"Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said cheerfully. Tony would never understand how Peter managed to be upbeat in situations like this. He wanted to be annoyed by it, but it was really one more thing on the long list of things he liked about the kid. 

“Peter what the fuck happened?” Tony asked incredulously, twisting around in his chair, trying to get free. “Why are you on a wall? You’re not wearing your mask!” Peter winced at his volume, and Tony suddenly took notice of how Peter was pale, sweating, and that his entire body was shaking. Shit he hadn’t even thought that the kid might be hurt after he’d seen him on the wall. God why was he such an asshole? Before Peter could answer, Tony added.\

“Shit kid I’m sorry. Are you okay? Well you’re obviously not okay but how do you feel? You took one hell of a hit.” Peter smiled weakly, and Tony couldn’t help noticing that the creepy, dark room they were sitting in got a little bit brighter. 

“I’m okay Mr. Stark, just feeling kinda like shit.” Despite the circumstances, Tony laughed. Damn this kid and his ability to make him smile after they got fucking kidnapped. 

“Have you talked to them kid? Any idea what they want with us?” Peter shook his head, glancing at the door in the far right corner of the room. 

“I woke up here by myself with you unconscious, so your guess is as good as mine.” Tony nodded, and tried to take in their surroundings. The room wasn’t that big, maybe as big as a standard family hotel room. It was dark, the only light coming from a small, antique looking lamp on a table by the door. Damn these people needed better furniture. It smelled a little moldy, a bit of an upgrade from the smell of the factory, and Tony could hear a faint dripping noise coming from somewhere behind him. He winced in sympathy. If he could hear it, it was probably driving Peter crazy. 

After a few moments of silence, the door slammed open, and seven armed men walked in. Tony gulped, wishing he could get up and stand between them and the kid. This didn’t look like it was going to end well for them. 

“Stark!” The man from earlier exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “How nice of you to join us!” Tony rolled his eyes. Getting kidnapped sucked enough already, but this was his least favorite part. 

“Can we get this over with please? Go ahead and get to your stupid villain monologue while I pretend to listen.” Peter barked out a laugh, but it was cut short when one of the men pointed his gun at him. Tony struggled to maintain his composure. The guard hadn’t even touched or gotten near the kid yet, but he already wanted to rip out his throat.

The man seethed. “Fine,” he spit out, and turned to Peter. “Welcome Spider-Man. Do you know why you’re here?” Peter shook his head, looking at Tony to avoid making eye contact. The man roughly grabbed Peter by the jaw and forced him to look at him. Tony pulled at his restraints. 

“Look me in the eye when I speak to you. Do you understand?” Peter said nothing. “Do you understand?” The man yelled, getting way too close Peter’s face for Tony’s liking. He was gonna kick his ass when they got out of here. Peter spit in his face, and the man stumbled back. Tony held in a laugh. 

“Yes sir,” Peter smirked. “I understand.” The man roared, stepping forward and backhanding Peter across the face. Tony growled. He knew that compared to the hits Peter usually takes, that a slap was nothing. He knew that Peter was fine. But he couldn’t help the surge of protectiveness that rose in his chest any time Peter was in danger. 

“Do you remember Cooper Hart, Spider-Man?” The man continued, calm as if nothing happened. Tony had been right in his original assessment at the factory. This guy was definitely deranged. He was just glad the woman with the freaky ass arm wasn’t here. Small mercies. 

Peter’s answer was immediate. “He tried to rob a bank a few months ago,” Peter answered, regret in his voice. “He got away, but the police found him a few days later.” Tony remembered him too. Peter had been really upset that he’d gotten away. Tony had tried to comfort him, to explain to him that it happened sometimes. That it was okay. Peter had saved the thirty eight hostages that the man had taken, even taking a bullet to the leg for one. The kid had done a good job. It was also the first time the kid had watched a movie with him, falling asleep on Tony’s shoulder half way through. So while the day probably sucked ass for Peter, Tony always looked back on it with a smile. The man nodded, a bit maniacally. 

"Yes he got away. Do you know what he did, after you let him get away, Spider-Man?” Peter winced, thought for a moment, then shook his head. 

“You let him get away and during the car chase with the police, he hit and killed my daughter!” Tony immediately knew that wasn’t Peter’s fault. There was nothing Peter could’ve done to stop that from happening. But he also knew Peter well enough to know that he wouldn’t see it that way. This would weigh on the kid for a long time. Peter’s eyes widened, and even at the distance Tony was at, he could see they looked a little teary. Tony’s heart clenched. He knew how much not being able to save someone sucked. He never wanted Peter to have to experience it. The shattering, self deprecating guilt that makes you want to quit being a superhero forever. But it was, unfortunately, part of the job. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, and Tony knew he meant it. “I-I didn’t know.” The man laughed humorlessly. 

“I don’t want your useless apologies. You’re here to pay.” Tony’s breath caught in his throat, and he struggled uselessly against his restraints. Plenty of people wanted revenge on superheroes, for both good and bad reasons, but most of them didn’t have the guts or means to actually do something about it. Tony didn’t know what this man was capable of, and that terrified him. 

"Don’t touch him,” he growled. The man laughed again.

“Oh I’m not gonna hurt him, but we’ll find someone who will.” Peter and Tony exchanged a confused, and slightly panicked, look. “Why would I kill him when I could make money off of him? I’ll be selling him tomorrow,” The man traced Peter’s jaw with his thumb, brushing over his lips and looking at him way too intensely for someone with good intentions. 

“Someone’s gonna pay big bucks to use a pretty boy like him for his personal needs.” Peter flinched, clearly trying to keep himself from panicking, and Tony’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. 

Anger burned bright, hot, and unstoppable in his chest, and he snarled. “Yeah I don’t fucking think so.” The man dropped his hand and spun around to face Tony. Tony’s jaw clenched as he stared daggers at the bastard in front of him. How dare he touch Peter like that? Threaten him like that? 

“He’s not going anywhere.” Tony said sharply. The man approached him and bent down slightly so they were eye to eye. 

“Don’t worry Stark,” he said sweetly. “You won’t miss him for long. We’re gonna kill you right after we make sure he gets to his new owner, and he’ll have to live the rest of his life knowing it's his fault that you’re dead and he’s someone’s dirty whore.” Tony saw red, and before he knew what he was doing his foot shot up from its place on the floor and hit the man in the balls. He doubled over and groaned in pain. Tony smirked a little, basking in satisfaction, before the armed men, who Tony had completely forgotten were there until then, started forward, grabbing Tony by the shoulders and pushing his chair roughly down to the floor. One of the men stomped an angry foot on his wrist and Tony grunted in pain when he felt it snap. It wasn’t that bad. And if it meant the men weren’t hurting Peter? He could do this all day. Tony vaguely registered the sound of metal breaking, and before any of the guards could react, Peter was yanking them all off Tony and throwing them across the room. Tony looked at Peter in shock. How the hell had the kid gotten off the wall? 

“Mr. Stark are you oka-” A loud, deafening shot rang throughout the room, a startled yelp and the sound of a body hitting the floor broke Tony out of his stupor. Blood was gushing out of a bullet hole in Peter’s thigh at an alarming rate, but before Tony could even think to ask Peter if he was okay, he was being roughly dragged to his feet by two of the guards. Tony sat up as fast as he could, his hands still cuffed behind his back and his body throbbing. 

“What the hell is wrong you with?!” He yelled at the men. “He’s a kid!” The man laughed. 

“He lost all of his innocence when he killed my daughter.” Peter flinched again, and looked at Tony. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and an alarming amount of blood was pooling on the floor beneath his leg. The wound looked _bad_. Tony needed to find a way to get them out of here or Peter was gonna bleed out and _no no no_ he couldn’t afford to think like that. Not when Peter needed him. Peter was going to be fine. 

“If you’re not gonna be able to behave, I’m just gonna have to get rid of you now.” The man nodded at the guards holding Peter, and they forced him onto his knees. The kid howled in pain when his leg hit the floor. Tony roared, trying to force himself to his feet, but it was useless. He couldn’t do anything but sit there and watch. The guards stood on either side of the kid, each holding one shoulder in place, and the man moved to stand behind Peter, pulling out a gun and holding it against the back of his head. _No. No No No No No not the kid. Please not the kid anyone but the kid._ That’s what he was. A kid. A teenager. Peter Parker was a stubborn teenager that had no business putting himself in danger. The world would fall off its axis and the sun would explode in a world without Peter Parker. There is no world without Peter Parker. There is no Tony Stark without Peter Parker. The kid didn’t deserve this, he needed Tony, he saved Tony and now he needed Tony to save him but Tony couldn’t do anything but beg. Fuck he had never felt so helpless in his life.

“Stop!” Tony screamed, tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t lose the kid. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to him. He wouldn’t. He _couldn’t._ The safety clicked off, and the first tear rolled down his face. 

“He’s just a fucking kid! Let him go!” Tony yelled. Tony knew it was useless. The man was fucked up and there’s no way he could convince him to spare Peter’s life. 

“Tony,” Peter said quietly. Tony looked at him, the use of his first name a rare and treasured moment. He had told Peter a thousand times to call him Tony, to stop being so formal. Peter insisted that it was just him being polite, that it was a habit and old habits die hard. Tony still grumbled about it anyway. The only times Peter had ever called him Tony were when he was hurt, or sick, or thought he was about to die. And that’s what was about to happen. Peter Parker was about to die, and Tony couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He took in a shaky breath, drinking in every detail on Peter’s face. His smile, one that could light up an entire room without him even trying. His soft brown eyes, that looked at him with so much love and trust that Tony didn’t deserve. The little scar on his eyebrow that he was so insecure about. Even covered in blood, he was the best thing Tony had ever seen. His kid. 

“Peter,” Tony breathed. Peter stared at him, looking at Tony reverently. Like he knew he would never see him again, and just wanted to take in every single thing about him. Tony knew, because he was doing the exact same thing. 

“It’s okay Tony,” he said softly. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay, and Tony knew that. He knew that Peter knew that, but Peter also knew that Tony had a guilt complex the size of the entire continent, and that he would blame himself for the rest of his life for what was about to happen. _And if you die, I feel like that’s on me. I don’t need that on my conscience._ Tony knew that Peter didn’t want him to feel guilty, didn’t want him to think it was his fault, and fuck if that wasn’t one of countless things Tony loved about him. He fucking loved Peter. Tony wanted to say it. Wanted to scream it. _Hey kid! I love you! I don’t want you to die! I love you I love you I love you._ But even now, he couldn’t force the words out. He just stared back, hoping that Peter understood. Peter smiled at him again. He understood. 

The shot ripped through the air, and Tony didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Blood spattered across the floor and up the wall, joining the ever growing puddle from his thigh. Some sprayed onto Tony's cheek, and it burned, it burned, Jesus fucking Christ it burned. He needed it off now but he couldn’t move his hands. He couldn’t move at all. Tony was completely frozen, staring straight ahead at the horrific scene in front of him. There were no dramatic last words or escape attempts, no scream of pain. Just Peter alive one second, and gone the next. Morbidly peaceful. 

Peter slumped in the guard’s hold, and when the guard’s grip loosened, his body dropped to the floor with a sickening thump. Tony yelled in anguish, ripping his hands out his cuffs in one fluid motion. He tried to get to Peter, but a guard slammed into his chest before he could. He struggled with all he had, he needed to see Peter, he had to save his kid. His eyes landed on Peter, motionless on the floor, over the guard’s shoulder. His eyes were closed, and if it weren’t for the puddle of blood gathering under his head, Tony might’ve been able to convince himself he was just sleeping. A sob bubbled out of his chest. Peter. Peter was gone. He felt a needle prick into his skin, feeling himself slowly falling into unconsciousness. He hoped that whatever was in that drug they gave him would just kill him. Would just get it over with. His eyelids drooped and he barely registered the guards dropping him to the floor. Tears rolled down his face. _I’m so sorry Peter._

* * *

The second Tony woke up, he knew. He knew it wasn’t a nightmare. He knew he wasn’t hallucinating. He knew that when he opened his eyes, he would enter a world without Peter Parker. Tears leaked out of his tightly shut eyelids, rolling down his face and near his mouth. He could taste the salt. His chest was heavy, his heart beating so hard he wondered if Rhodey could hear it wherever he was. Tony sat up slowly, rubbing his uninjured hand over where his arc reactor used to be in an attempt to stave off a heart attack. He faintly registered that he wasn’t restrained anymore, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when Peter wasn’t breathing anymore. Not when Peter wouldn’t get to graduate, wouldn’t get to go to college, marry the love of his life, or have kids of his own. Peter. God what had he done? 

He stared at the wall, lowering his hands to the floor, but paused when his hand touched on something lukewarm and wet. Tony then noticed the putrid, metallic smell that permeated the air. He opened his eyes for the first time since he woke up, and he gagged at the sight. The empty, dead eyes of Peter Parker stared right up at him, body limp and surrounded by blood. His throat tightened, and tears raced down his cheeks. He lifted his hand to wipe them away, but was horrified at the sight of his skin stained with crimson red. Blood. Peter’s blood. 

He scrambled back, away from the giant puddle of blood, away from the dead teenager, _away away away_. Tony’s back collided with a wall and he froze, unable to tear his eyes away from Peter’s lifeless form. He was dead. Peter was dead. Peter was dead. Peter wasn’t supposed to be dead. _Dead Dead Dead Dead_. Panic ignited in his chest as his breathing became more rapid, more shallow. His thoughts spun out of control, his whole body shaking as he gasped for air. _Peter’s dead Peter’s dead Peter’s dead_. _My fault my fault my fault_. This wouldn’t have happened if Tony had listened to his gut. They wouldn’t be here. Peter wouldn’t be dead, shot like a dog, like he didn’t matter. Like he was a piece of trash, like he was dirt under their captor’s feet. Like he wasn’t a person, a human being that despite all of its evils, loved the world and wanted to make it a better place. Like he wasn’t the most important thing to Tony. Like Tony wouldn’t have switched places with him in an instant. Like the world wouldn’t stop turning without Peter Parker in it. Logically, Tony knew that wasn’t the case. That he was one of the only people who even knew Peter was gone. That May was probably sitting at their apartment, waiting for her nephew to come home. That Ned was waiting for him to answer his texts. That in the big scheme of things, Peter was small. That the world wouldn’t even notice his absence. 

White hot anger burned in Tony’s chest. Peter had done so much, sacrificed so much, for a world that didn’t care about him. And he hated it he hated it he hated it. Because Peter mattered. He mattered to Tony, to May, to Ned, to MJ, and to so many other people. He mattered and Tony loved him, even though he never said it loud. God he loved him. Loved how brilliant he was. The way he was able to keep up with Tony in the lab, the few times he had invited him over. Loved how he rambled when he got excited, reminding Tony of himself. Loved how good he was, how he insisted on saving people who didn’t necessarily deserve it. Loved how he was. _Was_. Past tense. Because Peter was gone, and Tony couldn’t get him back. 

Tony didn’t know how much time had passed before he gathered the strength to move and crawl to where Peter, no Peter’s body, lay on the floor. He held back a sob at the sight, and turned him over on his back. 

“You’ll be more comfortable like this,” Tony muttered, pushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead, wincing at how it was matted with blood. He knew Peter couldn’t hear him, but it satisfied him somewhere deep down to talk to him one last time, with however much time he had left. How much time he had left before those men came in and killed him just like they did Peter. He knew he wasn’t even going to bother to escape. What was the point of living when Peter wasn’t? 

Tony pulled the boy into his lap and studied his face. Peter’s face was pale and slack, his eyes open but unseeing. Tears that didn’t get the chance to fall were gathered in his eyes. Tony ran a gentle hand over Peter’s cheek, smiling and sniffling quietly, tears of his own threatening to spill. 

“You remember the Stark Expo kid?” Tony asked. Peter didn’t answer. “Yeah, I know that little kid was you. Almost had a panic attack over it and everything.” Tony chuckled, heart clenching.

“It just made me accept what I already knew. That you, being anywhere near me, would always end up with you in danger.” He sighed, his eyes welling up with tears. “But I was too selfish to push you away, Pete. I should’ve kept you as far away from me as possible. But I didn’t and look where that got you?” A self deprecating laugh burst from his chest. 

“I thought that, maybe just this once, I could have something, something good, with someone and they wouldn’t end up injured or dead but that obviously didn’t work.” Tony’s chin trembled. “I think I’m just cursed, Pete. You were doomed from the moment I stepped foot into your bedroom and...I’m so sorry Peter.” 

A gut-wrenching sob tore out of his throat. It was a primal sound, one of a father who just lost his child. He grabbed onto Peter’s dirty suit, his hands shaking uncontrollably. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony gasped, grief spilling out of his every pore. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Pete. I’m so sorry buddy.” He felt like his entire body was being ripped to shreds, his heart shattering into a million pieces and his brain turning into a pile of broken promises and unspoken words. The whole world disappeared for him. There was nothing but pain and Peter, Peter who was dead below him and it was all Tony’s fault. He cried, sobbed as if the sheer violence and force of his grief would bring Peter back. He didn’t think he had cried this hard when his parents died, when Pepper had packed up and left. It was hysterical, and it horrified him, but he couldn’t control it. Tony’s mouth opened into a silent scream, a plea to a god he didn’t believe in to bring Peter back, to bring his kid back.

His throat burned, and his eyes stung. Was this what it felt like to die? Is this what Peter felt like in his last moments? Did a part of him die with Peter? Tony slumped forward, exhausted as small sobs forced their way out of his throat. He kissed Peter’s temple, touching their foreheads together and running a hand through his hair. 

“I love you kid,” Tony whispered, his voice raspy. “I love you so much Pete, and I’m so sorry I never said it.” Tony closed his eyes, his body shaking as he muttered reassurances and apologies in Peter’s ear. After what felt like hours, Tony’s cries subsided, leaving wet cheeks, soaked clothes, and a hollow chest in their wake. He buried his face in Peter’s chest, ignoring the sickening smell of blood and sweat, and shut his eyes. Minutes later, he fell asleep. And if he dreamt of Peter, smiling and laughing and alive, nobody had to know. 

* * *

Tony startled awake at the loud clang of the metal door against the wall. He took in the sight of two of the guards from earlier through bleary eyes, and instinctively pulled Peter closer to him, shielding him from the men. Broken wrist be damned. 

One of them nodded to the other, and he moved toward Tony, grabbing a hold on Tony’s shoulders and pulling him away from Peter. Tony didn’t even struggle. He knew where this was going. The guards were going to kill him, but he couldn’t bring himself to be upset about it. Sure, Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy would be upset. Maybe the Avengers too, wherever the hell they were. But the world would probably be better off without him anyway. And maybe, if there was a decent god somewhere out in the universe, he was going to see Peter again. 

The guard forced him onto his knees. He felt the cold barrel of a gun against the back of his head. Tony closed his eyes. The deafening crack of a gun firing rang throughout the small room, and he heard a chunk of the ceiling fall to the floor. Tony acknowledged, begrudgingly, that he wasn’t dead, or even injured. He opened his eyes, brow furrowed in confusion. He was about to speak up and ask what the hell had happened, when a familiar “Mr. Stark?” had him whipping his head around faster than he had ever moved before. 

Peter Parker, in all his glory, stood awkwardly over the crumpled bodies of the guards behind Tony. Tony didn’t move. He didn’t want to get his hopes up if he was dreaming, or probably more likely, hallucinating. 

Peter looked concerned. “Mr. Stark are you oka-” Tony didn’t let him finish, crossing the distance between them in an instant and enveloped the kid in a bone crushing hug, ignoring the pulsing pain in his wrist. Peter wrapped his arms around him just as fast, burying his face in Tony’s shoulder.

“God kid,” Tony breathed, tightening his arms around the teenager’s back. Peter laughed lightly, grabbing fistfuls of Tony’s shirt. They stayed like that for a few minutes, rocking back and forth slightly, until Tony reluctantly pulled away, cradling Peter’s face in his hands and really looking at him for the first time. His face was bloody and there were finger-shaped bruises on his cheeks and jaw, Tony forced down a hot bubble of anger at the sight. There were tears running down his cheeks that Tony gently wiped away with his thumbs. He was beat up, but he was alive. Peter was alive and Tony didn’t know how but he didn’t care. Peter was alive and he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“I love you Pete,” Tony said softly. He didn’t have it in himself to care about how open, how raw he was being. Peter was different than a lot of the people Tony had let into his life. He had wormed his way into his heart through the cracks that Rhodey, Happy, and Pepper had made, even when they got smaller after Berlin and Siberia. Despite his best efforts, he had grown to love this kid more than he loved anything else. Peter was his kid, and he mattered to him, and he deserved to know. Peter smiled, a watery, genuine smile that Tony was so sure he’d never see again.

“I love you too Mr. Stark.” Tony grinned at him, keeping one hand on Peter’s cheek and running the other through his hair, and down to the back of his neck. Tony frowned when something wet and rubbery met his hand. He walked behind the teenager, keeping his good hand on Peter’s shoulder, and his eyes widened at the sight of a large bloody bandage.

“What the fuck is this?” Tony asked, as calmly as he could manage, circling around to face Peter again. Peter laughed, looking a little sheepish. The smile on the kid’s face was almost enough to soothe his rapidly increasing anxiety.

“When they, you know,” The kid started, looking a little pale at the mention of it. Tony nodded. He didn’t want to think about it either. 

“The guy, he hit me, just not where he meant to? He hit me right here instead,” Peter gently grabbed Tony’s hand and lifted it to where the bandage sat on the kid’s neck. “I don’t know if they got the bullet out or what happened, but I woke up on the floor with this thing on my neck like ten minutes before I came in here.” Tony sighed in relief, smiling slightly at the kid’s rambling. God he never wanted the kid to stop talking.

“So you’re good? You’re okay?” Tony asked. The kid didn’t look like he was in immediate danger but you could never really tell with him. Neither his neck nor his leg were bleeding profusely. They’d obviously have to get that looked at when they got home, but for now, he was okay. 

“I think so,” Peter answered. “Other than the whole getting kidnapped and shot thing.” Tony laughed at that, but still tightened his grip on Peter’s shoulder. Thinking that Peter was dead was nightmare fuel for the rest of his life, but Peter was okay. Peter was alive, not dead on the floor. 

“Wait wait wait,” Tony interrupted his own train of thought. He pointed to the body on the floor, who, while looking like him, was evidently not Peter. Peter was making an effort not to look at the body, and Tony understood. He’d almost thrown up at the sight, and he couldn’t imagine seeing your own corpse was very pleasant. 

“That,” Peter said quietly, gesturing to the body but maintaining eye contact with his mentor. “Is a guard that the man blames for everything going wrong. I heard the guy say he didn’t hold me at the right angle. He’s the only guard we saw here that I didn’t see on my way in here. They used that face swap tech stuff to make him look like me.” Tony nodded, a little put off by the fact he’d grieved over someone that he didn’t even know, someone that almost killed his kid, but the feeling was outshined by the sheer relief that it wasn’t Peter on the floor. 

“That is my blood though.” Peter cut in. Tony groaned, but smiled despite himself and pulled Peter into another hug. This damn kid. Peter laughed, and Tony sighed, placing one hand on Peter’s back, moving with the kid’s every breath, and the other hand against the pulse point on Peter’s neck, a steady heart beat against Tony’s fingers. Tony closed his eyes, burying his face in Peter’s hair. Everything was right in the world again. Well, not everything. They still needed to figure out how to get out of here, and Peter needed medical help, but Tony could only focus on the very much not dead teenager in his arms. Peter smiled into his mentor’s shoulder. 

As if on cue, the wall behind Tony blew into hundreds of pieces. Tony tightened his grip on Peter protectively, but he knew the distinct sounds of repulsors anywhere. Peter lifted his head, and Tony turned around, smiling at his best friend staring at them from a few feet away. Rhodey flipped his faceplate up, relief evident on his face. 

“Took you long enough platypus,” Tony deadpanned. Peter laughed. 

“I’m glad that the dead heat signature isn’t one of yours,” Rhodey said a little sarcastically, but there was a smile on his face. Tony grimaced. 

“Seriously though,” Rhodey said. “Thank God you guys are okay. Everyone’s been worried.” 

“Even Happy?” Peter piped up from behind Tony, making his way to stand next to him, Tony keeping his good arm wrapped around him. 

“Especially Happy,” Rhodey responded, smiling warmly at the pair in front of him. “He was a mess, thinking he wouldn’t see either of you again.” Peter smiled, looking at Tony brightly. Tony smiled at him fondly, rubbing his shoulder. He would go through hell if it meant getting to see that smile everyday. 

“You ready to get out of here kid?” 

“So ready. I’m hungry.” 

"Of course you are.” 

**Author's Note:**

> well there was that. I hope you at least somewhat enjoyed it. If any of you catch some of the references in there PLS let me know lmao. 
> 
> come hang out with me on my other socials! 
> 
> twitter: @dizzydowney  
> tumblr: tastelessirondad


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